


Clipped Wings

by KeenKlance



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, College Student Keith (Voltron), Enochian, Eventual Plot, F/M, Family Drama, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff and Humor, Gay Keith (Voltron), He's got a pretty boy with wings in his apartment and he's lost, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Injured Lance (Voltron), Injury Recovery, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Interspecies Romance, Keith Doesn't Know What He's Doing, Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Pansexual Lance (Voltron), Physical Disability, Pidge and Keith are Friends, Rating May Change, Scent Marking, Shiro can't fix this mess, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Wing Grooming, Wing Kink, Wings, Zarkon is basically Lucifer, angel Lance, angel hunk, conspiracy theorist keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-31 11:44:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10898673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeenKlance/pseuds/KeenKlance
Summary: "If someone were to have told Keith just one hour ago that he would be harboring a complete stranger in his barely affordable apartment, he would be tempted to scoff.Were they to tell him that such a stranger would possess wings, he'd have been tempted to laugh.Unfortunately, those two hours had since passed, and he couldn't find it in him to laugh or scoff."--Keith is a struggling college student that can barely keep up with the bills without the help of his older brother. So how the hell does he expect to nurse some injured bird-man that crash lands into his life back to health? Or deal with the tumultuous aftermath?Luckily, said bird-man intends to return the help. Once he's functioning and returned to full power, anyway.





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> This came into being from me wanting to write a Mer!Lance fic, because they are my favorite thing on the planet. But because there were already so many amazing ones, I decided to go for something different. So Angel!Lance (horrifying notion, I know). Bear with me. Also, my cat beta read this, so all mistakes are ours and ours alone.
> 
> (Possible violence in far future chapters, when plot picks up. For now, it'll be pretty light.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Depressed and at a loss, Keith stumbles across someone strange.

 

**Prelude**

 

**X**

The currently torrential downpour battering him to a soaking wet state— in a city all but renowned for being dry before he moved there for college —did a lot better job at showcasing Keith Kogane's godawful luck than any of his grumbled complaints ever could. Those very complaints were what had him trekking the tolerable distance from the home of one of the few (two, frankly) people who could put up with him for significant periods of time to his own apartment. To her credit, Pidge brooked a fair deal of shit from Keith.

 

Despite going for entirely different majors, they had ended up attending various general education courses together and saw each other around the campus of their shared university. In those aforementioned classes, namely physics, Keith had picked up on a certain percipience to Pidge — a to-the-point honesty and intelligence that would be stopped for no one. It was something he could respect, at the least. In turn, Pidge had noticed his penchant for silence, or brooding, as Pidge's brother would frequently put it. Amongst buzzing masses and rowdy frat boys, any sort of quiet was a scarce thing (as were utilized brains, really). So the two came to form a bond, one based off of traits not easily fond in the other students. Gradually, it became fortified with other aspects of their characters and soon shaped into a friendship. 

 

And so, it was after one of the many study sessions they had set up, Keith decided to spare Pidge from his less than good mood and head back to his rented residence. Unlike Pidge, who was fortunate enough to have parents who lived locally, Keith had lived in an entirely different state than the college he had been striving to get into. And while Keith had an older brother who was more than willing to assist him financially, he still mostly had to support himself.

 

Working as an on-campus library assistant didn't exactly have him living in luxury, but he hardly had the energy for anything else. His brief time working as a waiter ended in nothing short of disaster. Before he did it, he wouldn't have thought it possible to spill so many drinks in such a short span of time, but he quickly proved himself wrong. Shelving books and swiping IDs in solitude, however, was something he could manage. There was an occasional upset, typically when someone forgot their ID card or didn't understand how late fees worked, but it was generally pretty mellow. The only downside was the pay. At the point he was at in debt, he was honestly only subsisting. It got worse every day. 

 

And tomorrow was payday.

 

Not his own, but his landlord's. And Keith was, yet again, falling more than a few dollars short. 

 

While relatively skeezy at time, Rolo could be equally lenient. Needing some extra time to scrounge up the money needed for rent was something the man apparently understood well, and thus allowed. Needing that extra time more than once, consecutively? Well, Keith was a special case, and by some miracle, Rolo had waived the right to evict the floundering college student numerous times.

 

Unfortunately, the ugly truth of that miracle had come to rear its head. Because with every delay, he incurred a late and delivered the promise that he would pay everything off at a designated, later date. And that later date, once so blissfully elusive, was tomorrow. He knew that he wouldn't be allowed another extension. Eviction loomed over his head, and while he did have a place he could always return to, it would necessitate dropping out of school. That was something he just couldn't afford _emotionally_... 

 

Lost in introspection as he was, it was no surprise that he was more than slightly removed from his surroundings. Of course, having walked this route many a time, he didn't need to be. Since he didn't have the money to spare for public transportation, Keith had instead learned to conserve his physical resources by taking shortcuts. It required going through a sketchy alley, but he'd braved it so many times that it now didn't bother him at all. So he had no issue walked through it distracted. But it was that very distraction that had him tripping over something pliant and snapping back to reality as a result. 

 

"What the hel—?" he'd begun as he steadied himself, despite being quite alone. The sight of what he'd tripped over stilled his tongue and left him at the mercy of an unnerved silence. In his defense, a motionless body would no doubt bring anyone to a pause. 

 

Taking a good handful of steps away from that body, Keith looked it over. Past a growing panic, he managed to register that there _was_ a slight movement to it, centered in the chest. Breathing. So he wasn't _dead_. Thank God.

 

More easily, he could tell it was a man; he would estimate him to be around his own age, as well. That was almost too easy, though, and all of the credit for that deduction went to the unconscious man's nakedness. Indeed, the guy was bereft of anything beyond a sheen induced by the continuing rainfall. He would have averted his gaze, but he didn't think now was the time for modesty. 

 

_Perhaps it was a mugging_ , Keith was left to presume. But the guy, oddly enough, didn't seem injured. While his earlier alarm lessened, his confusion increased, and it showed in the furrow taking root between his brows. 

 

After a beat of in which the only sound around him was that of the heavy rain, Keith couldn't help muttering to himself, "And here I was thinking I was having a bad day." 

 

Whatever this guy's problem was, it had his own beat. Whatever this guy's problem was, it had him quickly removing his cropped jacket. Due to its styling, he doubted it would do much good in the way of covering. But whether it was on account of feeling a certain sense of empathy (what with his own crappy day), or sheer human, he found himself bending down to help the bizarrely positioned man, hoping he wouldn't come to regret the decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO THAT'S THAT. I'm so sorry if this sucked. Not my first time writing fiction, but it is my first Voltron fic. I've had an AO3 account since '14, but it's one where all my filthy bookmarks are saved, so I decided to keep my "work" and personal stuff separate. lol. 
> 
> Just so everyone is aware. I have ADHD and many real life obligations, so my update schedule will reflect that. I apologize. But the better the response, the more I'm motivated! Next chapter, "mystery" man wakes up. ;)


	2. Waking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drug addict? Laughable. Someone suffering from a dissociative fugue? Practically a blessing, by comparison. This? Not what he was expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO COMMENTED/GAVE ME SUSTENANCE VIA KUDOS. EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU ARE APPRECIATED!

If someone were to have told Keith just one hour ago that he would be harboring a complete stranger in his barely affordable apartment, he would be tempted to scoff.

 

Were they to tell him that such a stranger would possess _wings_ , he'd have been tempted to laugh.

 

Unfortunately, those two hours had since passed, and he couldn't find it in him to laugh or scoff. Cry, maybe. Scream in frustration? Definitely. Leave his own apartment and not return until he could convince himself this was nothing more than a dream-slash-nightmare? Oh, he was considering it.   

 

 _This was great. Just great._ While it may have made him an asshole, this was precisely why Keith was loathe to do nice deeds without foreseeable reward. Because no, he couldn't have had the bad luck of ending up dealing with some sort of spiraling drug addict, a streaker who had slipped and fell, or an amnesiac who had a family that Keith could return him to, perhaps receiving an uncomfortable hug or two in the process of that return. No, he had the _insane_ luck of the guy _sprouting wings_. 

 

Honestly? Keith may have been the only person in existence to wish they had gotten stuck with the bad luck. Because every single one of those options would be so much easier to comprehend than what he was left with.

 

 

It wasn't that Keith had expected no hassle, of course. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't selfish, nor was he heartless. Finding a man unconscious and naked in an abandoned alley, in the pouring rain on top of that, he was expecting to have to heat up a good amount of the numerous soup cans and ramen packets he had in his cupboard. To lend the guy his phone, more than once. Prepare a glass of water or two. Let him stay until his family could arrive and pick him up. Let him take a shower on full heat (which, on his budget, was a big favor, thank you). Spare a shirt and some sweatpants. Offer him some local rehabs, maybe.

 

What he was not expecting was for that naked and unconscious man, upon Keith's return from having gone to fetch an extra blanket (he told himself it was for comfort and warmth, but really, he just found the abject nudity disconcerting), to suddenly be with wings. 

 

At least, that's what they appeared to be.

 

After having managed to toss the blanket he'd procured where it mattered, Keith had promptly scrambled back to reside within the little archway to his kitchen unit, hitting the frame and startling himself in the process. Not his brightest moment, but could you blame him? This was not normal. Not normal _at all_. If asked, he would say he kept to a surprised silence, but in reality, he had let a curse or two slip. No matter how many times he ran a hand over his face, slapped himself, etc, the image before him would not leave. Meaning this wasn't a stress induced hallucination. He would actually have to deal with whatever this was.

 

So, since he had nothing better to do, and his mind was still sluggish with shock, he just... looked. He took in every new facet of this stranger, as well as some old ones.

 

There was an undeniable, terrifying beauty to the feathered appendages sprouting from his guest's back. However, that very beauty was obscured by a greater grotesqueness, one he doubted was intentional.

 

The feathers— most of which appeared a dove grey, with undertones of periwinkle to them —were beyond mangled, and from what he could tell, more than a few had been torn out altogether from their appropriate spots. While both wings as a whole were a mess in terms of appearance, one was far worse than the other, looking to be outright _shot_ through. By what, he couldn't tell. Fortunately, there was no blood, but the gaping hole puncturing thin muscle was no less unsettling. Keith chose to divert his eyes from the wound, instead taking in their movement. As opposed to their owner's stationary state, both appendages twitched— sporadic and restless. 

 

Fuck, this was _not_ how he wanted to be spending his last day before homelessness. 

 

It was that thought that, after gathering his bearings as much as possible and sucking in a breath that did little to compose him, had him marching over to shake the tensed shoulder of the guy sprawled across his couch (though he carefully avoided touching the wings). 

 

When his efforts earned him no response, he glanced behind him, more than a little tempted to grab he charging phone. But who would he call? Pidge? She'd probably enjoy that, but for some reason, he felt it better to keep the current circumstances a secret.

 

Then there was Shiro. But he would rather only contact him with this information, if ever, as a last resort. Besides, he was pretty sure this was one of those 'you have to see it to believe it' scenarios. Hell, he was seeing it and he could hardly believe it. 

 

After settling on keeping things to himself for now, he looked back at his guest, only to stiffen. After jerking his hand back on instinct, Keith was practically frozen on the spot, eyes of an oceanic blue now locked upon him as they were. And from the looks of it, the guy had been up for at least his whole inner debate regarding contacting someone else.  And whoever the hell this was, he had blue eyes... blue. Not red. 

 

He'd _really_ been banking on red.

 

_Well, shit._

 

This definitely tossed his initial assumption of _Mothman_ out the window. Back to square one.

 

At least now, he could ask questions. And Keith already had the first one on the tip of his tongue, regardless of whether the stranger was in any condition to process it properly. But before this went _any_ further, he needed to know.

 

"What _are_ you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actual Klance stuff next chapter. Technically could have stuffed it into this one. But I work better, and post quicker, when I keep to shorter chapters. Just how I am. I tend to lose motivation the longer I try to go, and I really don't want that to happen.
> 
> Quick note. Lance may be OOC-ish in the beginning of his interactions. Beautiful boy was hurt, and isn't going to be used to the human world, so it's to be expected. But he will definitely get there.
> 
> Also. Another quick note, for clarification. In this fic, Altea is basically heaven (though a couple non-Altean canons will be written as angels), while the Galra are demons. Take that as you will... ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)


End file.
